


Out of Mind Until You Came Into Sight

by commacomma, judas_isnt_col



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: A lot of fucking sadness, Bipolar Disorder, Explicit Language, Homophobic Language, I will add more tags later, M/M, Major character death - Freeform, Mentions of attempted suicide, Mentions of past self harm, Original Character - Freeform, Post Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Slow Burn, basically i suck at tags, do babies count as OCs?, heavy substance abuse, it's gallaghers and milkoviches dude there's a shit ton of substance abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-20
Updated: 2017-05-31
Packaged: 2018-08-09 23:22:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7821295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/commacomma/pseuds/commacomma, https://archiveofourown.org/users/judas_isnt_col/pseuds/judas_isnt_col
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's the visits from the Gallaghers over the years that Mickey tries his hardest to tolerate. Debbie isn't so bad, she's just really chatty. That's okay. Carl is a bit of a challenge, but he'll be quiet when Mandy's lame crime shows are on, so there's that. Lip isn't bad at all, Mickey just really hates seeing his sister moon over him. Those three are easy to deal with, but fuck, Fiona Gallagher at his doorstep is just the beginning note to a whole sad song.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 1. Homecoming.

Mickey Milkovich is - to say the least - fucking pissed. Sick and tired of the Gallaghers happening into his life after all these years; after he worked so hard to get away from South Side.

First, it was Debbie. Twenty three, just out of college. She's grown up to be a pretty thing, curly red hair and wide, bright eyes, but that wasn't what Mickey noticed about her when she came knocking on his door at three in the morning, babbling about how Lip might be dead because of some accident, and Mickey had to pretend to care because she had that look on her, just like Mandy always got, like she was made of glass and if he fucked up, she'd shatter right then and there (and then he'd never get her to leave). He asked her, once she had calmed down, why she came to talk to him of all people, and she responded "I was hoping to talk to Mandy, sorry" and flashed one of those embarrassed smiles, and she was just so sweet and naive that Mickey forced himself not to be pissed. He couldn't help it - he knew Fiona would bust his ass if he sent Debs home crying or upset (the woman, although small, was terrifying), and he knew that he would definitely fuck up anyone who made Mandy upset, so he allowed his little shred of human decency to take over and invited her in, made her coffee, and listened to her talking about the hospital for about an hour before she got a call and went back.

The second time, it's Carl. In with whiskey in his breath heavy enough for Mickey to smell from feet away, busted up like he's just fucked the farmer's daughter. Carl Gallagher just waltzes in like he lives there, and drops like an anchor down on the couch, next to Mandy. And she doesn't automatically yell or smack him, so Mickey just lets it slide, and he sits down too, and they all watch Criminal Minds together until it stops airing, none of them speak a word to each other. After the plot twist of the last episode, they all groan and Mandy looks damn close to tears (she's got a crush on that one guy in the show, the nerd who remembers everything, and he's just been shot or some shit), and then they have a few beers. They play poker with Carl Gallagher, and both yell at him because he's a dirty cheater, and then they all pass out on the floor. Carl is gone by the time they wake up, and Mandy calls Fiona to tell her what happened.

Lip visits throughout the next few years. They're on better graces, since Mandy calls him her friend, and he has the decency not to try anything on his sister while he's around. Whenever he comes over, they all just get high and watch old movies and eat shitty food, until whoever Lip's hiding from goes away and so does he.

These visits, although not too bad, are not things that Mickey is fond of. He tolerates them so Mandy doesn't call him a jackass, and that's about it. So imagine his surprise when he opens his door to find Fiona fucking Gallagher, looking frazzled and frayed as a decade old sweater, with her hands tucked in her pockets and a cigarette hanging from her lips.

"Can I help you?" He asks, making sure to emphasize on the rudeness. Can't have the Gallaghers coming around like they think they're welcome.

"I need you to take Ian." She says bluntly. Her voice is raspy, she's been chain smoking.

"Ian?" Mickey asks, hoping to play it off like he doesn't know. "Which one's that, again?"

"Don't try to do that shit to me, Milkovich. Where's your sister?" Fiona peers into the messy apartment, her South Side accent bringing back many memories of his time in that neighborhood.

"Mandy's at the hospital. Ultra-sound."

"She knocked up?"

"Yeah." Mickey lets out a deep sigh. He still can't believe it, she's six months along, too late to turn back.

"I need you to look after Ian for me." She repeats. "Just until I can get my shit together, please."

"What's wrong with him?"

"Do you have a week to talk about everything that's wrong with my dumbass of a brother?" She snaps.

Fiona Gallagher only calls her siblings dumbasses when she's worried about them.

"You remember that stupid ROTC thing he did in high school?" Fiona asks.

How could Mickey ever forget? It's all he ever fucking heard about when they weren't having sex. He just nods.

"Yeah, well it paid off. He joined the Marines, saw some bad shit, they practically sent him back in a fuckin' box." She blows a cloud of smoke down to the ground, like she's one of those cheesy magicians trying to make a get away. It pools around her feet and then disappears.

"Look, _Fiona_ ," he emphasizes on the name, he can't just call them all Gallagher, "I know he may have said some stupid shit about me when he was younger, but we weren't close. Weren't even friends, I beat the hell out of him more than once. Drop him with Debbie or Lip, they'll be fine."

"No can do. They- they kinda don't want anything to do with him."

"And neither do you." Mickey says, almost coldly.

"Don't you say that shit to me, I've been--"

"You're tryna drop him off here, with me, the 'ex-scum of the South Side', like you said when I left. I don't give a shit about the match stick, okay? He went to the Marines with his own free will, ain't my fault he's stupid."

"I came to drop him off with Mandy. So keep a fucking eye on him until she gets home, tell her I said congratulations about the baby, and let her deal with it. I'm going to go get him, you keep this door open."

Her eyes are practically a knife to his throat, those cold, beady Gallagher eyes - Ian's had always been much warmer, the color of those beer bottles Mandy used to hang like wind chimes, glowing in the sunlight for the few months that summer lasted. But Fiona's eyes are coal, fueling whatever fire's inside of her, the smoke spewing from her lips only adding to the affect.

She disappears momentarily, leaving Mickey there to try and assess the fucked up situation that he's been thrown into. He knows that Mandy isn't going to throw Ian out; they were close on South Side (best friends, even), and she's always had too much niceness in her to be still living with Mickey, but she sticks around anyways.

After nearly ten fucking minutes, Fiona comes back with a tall man latched to her arm. This man is not Ian Gallagher, even Mickey can tell. You wouldn't have to graduate high school to know that. Ian Gallagher is the stupid puppy kid from South Side, the freckled little gay boy who tells girls they're beautiful and calls Mickey pretty, the boy who works in a store instead of fucking off like a normal teenager so his family can eat dinner. Ian Gallagher is that happy kid who's always smiling for no reason, even when Mickey's calling him stupid and threatening him.

This man has dead eyes, and faded hair that's just the color of rust, with pale cheeks lacking the usual scattering of freckles, and a back stiff as a board, as if he's afraid he'll fall apart when he slouches.

"I'll be back for you, okay? Don't give Mandy too much--"

"I'm not a kid, Fiona." The man snaps. His voice is deep, and even despite the nature of what he said, unsteady and trembling.

Mickey can tell that the man doesn't talk much anymore, because Fiona looks genuinely surprised that he said anything at all.

"I'm- I'm sorry. Give me a call tonight, okay? I'll round everyone up, you can talk to Debs and Carl. Love you." She forces a smile on her chapped, cracked lips and then scrambles off, down the winding stairwell, not looking back even once.

Mickey stares the imposter of Ian Gallagher down, waiting for that _Love you, too_ to ring out, but it doesn't come. The man in front of him stares back, but his eyes are empty and his lips are pressed into a tight line.

"Uh- just- just come in, I guess. Mandy's probably out soon." Mickey tries to be polite, because he's heard of some of the shit that goes on with the Marines.

The fact that Ian Gallagher isn't even thirty, and got sent home on discharge, means it had to be fucking bad. These are the kind of guys he sees on the streets, out of jobs, freaking the fuck out over loud noises and gun shots, and he's got some sort of emotional sentiment, he can't help it. Mostly because he knows that Mandy's going to be worried off her head, she's always had a stupid soft spot for Ian Gallagher, and to see him like this won't be good for her.

He looks closely, and almost sees something spark in the imposter at the mention of Mandy. Okay. Good start, he decides. He's going to get uncomfortable as fuck if they're just silent the whole time.

"She's havin' a baby, y'know. Some guy fucked her, ran off as soon as he heard, but she's gonna keep it. She's findin' out if it's a girl or a boy today." Mickey's voice grows sappier, but he's just a little excited for this kid.

Boy or girl, he wants to help her raise a Milkovich who's _not_ all fucked up.

But Gallagher doesn't say a word, just sits down on the couch, and stares at the wall across from him like it's the Mona Lisa.

"And, hey, if ya want, I mean, I guess you could visit the--"

"You don't have to talk to me." He says bluntly, not looking away from the hole he's burning into the wall.

His voice is tired. Clipped. Short and devoid of any recognizable emotion. But Mickey's not particularly excited for his presence, so he shuts up really quickly and just heads to the kitchen to grab a beer from the fridge. Gallagher's in uniform, like he's just come home, and--

God. Has he just gotten back? Mickey wouldn't doubt it. Fiona's not exactly stable, no doubt she'd try to get rid of him as quick as possible before she got committed to taking care of him. It's what Mickey would do, at least. But the uniform fits him well, not like the baggy one he wore all those years ago in ROTC, there's a tie and colored patches and everything. It's almost surreal, Mickey doesn't even think he's really processed it, seeing him looking so different after all these years.

An hour into the bullet proof silence, a key twists in the lock of the door and it is swung open, and in flutters a very giddy Mandy Milkovich.

"Mickey!" She squeals. "Mickey, it's a..."

She stops. Her eyes fork over the figure whose back is to her on the couch, but then they light up.

"Ian! Holy shit, Ian!" She laughs, loudly, snorting like a pig and then turning a bit red at the noise she's made.

As if he's being called up in a hospital, he stands at the mention of his name, and turns around to look at her. His expression flickers just the slightest bit, a bit of that old warmth returns to his eyes as they scan over Mandy; though he still does not smile. She seems to be in a stage of shock, looking over the uniform, over the shiny metal pins and the colored patches and the tie.

"You actually fucking did it." She breathes out, eyes drowning in disbelief. "I- I thought it was a phase, or some shit."

"I hate to break up the happy fuckin' reunion, but you gotta tell me, Mands," Mickey steps forward from the kitchen, "am I getting a niece or a nephew?"  
Mandy is broken out of her trance.

"Niece!" She squeaks, holding up the folder in her hands. "I had 'em check it over twice, they're sure of it. So- um, back to that happy fuckin' reunion, though."

She steps towards Gallagher, and he flinches, steps back, eyes wide as if someone's just shot him in the gut. A deer in the headlights, Mickey decides.

"Hey, man, relax, the only thing I'm packin' is a kid in my stomach." Mandy chuckles, and holds out a hand, like a little kid reaching out to a beaten down stray out on the streets.

For what seems like years jammed into a few seconds, Gallagher stares at the hand, but then he reaches out, and he brushes his fingers over her palm. Mandy waits for some sort of fucking telepathic verification, it seems, before she slots their fingers together and squeezes his hand.

"Fiona dropped him off earlier. Said he got sent home all fucked up from the Marines, his siblings don't want anything to do with him, and she's got too much on her plate. I guess you're the only other person in the world who gives a damn." Mickey explains briefly, uneasy with this strange moment occurring between his sister and the imposter.

"You should've told me you got sent out." Mandy says sternly, completely ignoring Mickey, her eyes intent on the false Gallagher in front of her. "I would have written to you all the damn time."

"Didn't really get letters, anyways." He replies quietly, eyes fixed on their hands, as if he's waiting for her to fall apart from his touch.

"I still would've written. Now it's going to take hours to fill you in on what's been going on the past ten years. Do you want a hug, buddy?"

He shakes his head. It leaves Mickey a little concerned, because last he remembered, Ian Gallagher was an absolute _slut_ for hugs, and he'd often find the ginger and his sister huddled up under a wad of blankets, watching movies together. When they were playing video games, Mandy would sit in Gallagher's lap, and he would hold his arms around her with the controller at her stomach, resting his chin on her shoulder so he could see the screen. It was always just a little endearing, Mickey remembers, to see Mandy being treated nice by a guy who couldn't be in it for sex; he remembers hearing all of Mandy's _And today, Ian and I..._ rants at two in the morning. It was nice to see her so happy back then.

And now, Gallagher refuses a hug.

"M'kay. Well, I ordered pizza, because I'm hungry as fuck and I have a baby girl on the way. You gonna eat any?" She asks, her voice gentle and sweet, even through the profanities.

Gallagher shrugs.

"She asked you a fucking question, Gallagher, use your words." Mickey hisses.

"Mickey, shut up." She responds patiently.

When did his sister get so grown up? He swears, she's could be a lawyer if she wanted. Wouldn't even need to go to a school for it, she could just show up and start talking sense into whoever it was needed talking sense into.

"Sorry." Gallagher whispers, letting go of her hand, his arm returning stiff to his side.

Mickey walks back to the small kitchen. He's going to need another fucking beer. Or ten.


	2. 2. Mandy Milkovich, Loving Mother and Sister

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jesus you guys, I'm really fucking sorry that this is so late. Having some wifi troubles, and then there was just a lot of upsetti spaghetti. But here it is! I might even post another chapter if I have time tonight, to make up for the semi hiatus.

Mandy is beyond terrified now. This sweet ray of sunshine that she knew all those years ago, snuffed out by the darkness of the uniform he's dressed up in. She said earlier that she thought the ROTC was a phase, but in reality, she had fucking prayed that it was a phase. All of Ian's talk about going overseas, proving that he could do something good for his country, wanting to do it because it was simply what he was good at, she had never taken those conversations seriously. He had only ever talked about the Marines when they would get drunk or stoned (or both), but sober he was just looking to get out of South Side.

  
Though, she supposes, he did get out of South Side, in the end.

A wave of nausea hits her, she can't tell if it's from the pregnancy or the realization that Ian Gallagher is fucked up, probably got PTSD, or whatever it's called. What does it even stand for? She doesn't know. She doesn't want to _need_ to know, she wants her dopey, doe-eyed best friend back.

And Mickey.

Mickey isn't helping the situation at all, with his comments and his bitterness towards all things Gallagher. She hates being so...pregnant? She can't run, she can't wrestle with Mickey, she can't eat instant noodles, she can't even get out of bed too fast in the mornings. She's got a visible bump now, it's obvious that she's got a kid in her (the elated feeling returns to wash over the sickness as she thinks to herself, it's a girl). 

When the broken Ian Gallagher speaks, in those very few, scattered moments, Mandy can swear that he's afraid someone's going to hear him. Instead of the lazy, obnoxious grin on his face, there's a tight line; lips pink from being chapped and splotched with red from being bitten. The freckles that she once tried to count have disappeared, except a few that she can see on his nose, but they look like tiny pin pricks of blood on his pale face.

"Listen, sweetie," some strange, weird maternal instinct is kicking in, now that Mickey's out of the apartment to wait for the pizza, "I know that I don't know what you've gone through. I won't ever know, I don't think. But let me in, okay? You're staying with me until Fi's back on her feet, I won't let you go out on your own. We both know it could a take a while. A fuckin' long while. I need to know that if you're still around when I have this baby, you're not going to disappear again."

Mandy herself can't believe what she's saying. She hasn't spoken to Ian Gallagher since she left South Side, she can't even call him her best friend anymore. But she knows that she wants him in her life, she knows just looking at him that he needs a life to be in. He looks surprised as well, his hands reaching up to straighten out the tie that's no longer there. Mandy's first order of business once Mickey left was to get him out of the uniform, so she raided her brother's side of the room and scrounged up an old Guns 'n Roses t-shirt and a pair of sweats that fit him. As Ian realizes there is no tie, he grabs at the tags instead, they clink faintly against each other.

He doesn't answer. She knows it was hopeless to expect a response so soon, she has to ease into it. 

"You don't have to decide now. We can figure it out later. I _am_ going to make you and Mickey help me name her, though. Gotta pick something pretty." Her attempt to brighten the mood almost looks like it works, he looks up from his lap incredulously.

"Really?" He asks softly, for a moment she can see fuzzy Ian Gallagher looking down at her.

"Duh. Wouldn't say it if I didn't mean it, dipshit." She teases. "Mick and I were talking, like- maybe something French. She'd have it good with a French name, yeah? Something gorgeous." Mandy hums, and holds her hand out again.

She knows that this is safe. She held his hand earlier, and it was safe. Mandy doesn't know fuck-all about taking care of anyone but her brother, so she decides her best bet is to start small and stick with small, and they'll be okay.

They have to be okay.

Ian takes it as soon as he sees it this time, which is good. They are sitting almost two feet away from each other on the couch, and she rests their linked hands in the space between them.

"Things got pretty crazy when we left South Side. We meant to stay with this old friend, but he flaked on us, so we were on the street for about a month. It fuckin' sucked, dude, I had to shower in a gas station sink. But we raked up enough money, went straight sober for the whole time on the street. I tell you what, Mickey's even more of an ass when he's not drunk or stoned." She cackles, remembering all of the moody arguments she had with them. "We've lived here since. Boyfriend stayed with us for a while, but when we found out about the baby, he split."

Mandy feels Ian squeeze her hand. He's listening. This is good. She tells him the stories of the Milkovich residence, the time Mickey was so sick that he sneezed and fell over, the time she got so wasted she tried to swim down the stairs, as much of the happy times as she can fit into twenty minutes until Mickey comes back in, balancing two boxes of pizza and a two-liter bottle of coke on one arm, a plastic bag and the keys in his other.

"Alright, you love birds, don't get sappy around my food." grumbles Mickey, setting everything down on the foot table in front of the couch.

Mandy lets go of Ian as Mickey sits right where their hands were previously.

"He's gay and I'm pregnant, your food is safe." Mandy says bluntly.

Ian Gallagher laughs. Not his shell, not whatever he's been in the last half hour. The real Ian Gallagher.

Both of the Milkovichs turn their heads to look at him in surprise, a trying smile is delicate on his face.

"Like no one could tell just by looking at us," he jokes weakly.

Mandy is unsure of how to react, but Mickey just _bursts_ into laughter, shaking his head. She's very tempted to smack him.

"That was a good one, fuck," he breathes out, once he's finished cackling like an idiot. Then his brows furrow. "Wait- why the fuck is he wearing my clothes?"

"Well, I offered him mine, but I didn't have any red lingerie for him to borrow." She says, smacking Mickey's shoulder. "I only wear purple."

"Why red?" Ian asks quietly, his voice sounds timid, like he's afraid to be a part of the conversation.

"It'd look good with your hair." Mandy answers, a wolf grin creeping onto her face.

"Let's stop talkin' about you nasties wearing lingerie and eat this fucking pizza." Mickey says, and Mandy hollers enough for both herself and Ian.

She reaches forward and grabs the entire box that's hers, she knows it is; her gross, awful pregnancy craving: pineapple and olive pizza. 

"Hey- vitamins first." Mickey says sternly, holding up the grocery bag he'd brought in.

She groans. Mickey has been this super health freak since she found out she was pregnant, making her take vitamins and not letting her carry stuff that's over five pounds (she's not even allowed to carry in the pizza, for Christ's sake).

"Come on, they make the first few bites taste like shi--"

Mickey cuts her off. "My niece is gonna be able to whoop anyone's ass who looks at her wrong, she's gotta be healthy to do that."

After taking the awful pills, Mandy watches and speaks carefully as Ian picks at the slice of pizza he's been given, eating a few bites before he sets it back down in the box. Mickey polishes off the rest of that piece, as well as five more, and puts the rest in their fridge for leftovers. Mandy nearly devours her entire pizza, leaving only two slices left in Ian and Mickey's box.

"Don't eat much anymore, huh, Gallagher?" Mickey asks, laying back, kicking his feet up onto the table. 

"Guess not." Ian answers stiffly, he's back up with his walls (it might just be Mickey he's fragile around) and the cold eyes are back.

"Where you wanna sleep? Could probably squeeze you in on the bed - me and Mickey share one. Or you could take the couch."

She knows he's going to pick the couch. It's Gallagher courtesy not to take up a bed when they're freeloading, and even if he's lost all sense of family custom, he's not going to risk getting pressed up between them, all of that contact might fuck him up.

"Couch will be nice," Ian says, his voice is suddenly hoarse, like he's been coughing all day, and he winces, shrinking in his spot.

Mickey pipes up, "You ever gonna talk more than a sentence at a time?"

"Did you serve in the Marines, Mickey?" Mandy snaps. "Leave him alone."

"I'm just saying, considering you took him in when Fiona fucking Gallagher was too much of a--"

In the next mere seconds, Ian is on his feet, towering over Mickey, shoving him back a few steps before grabbing the front of his shirt and saying in a voice as cold and sharp as steel, "Don't talk about Fiona like that. Don't _ever_."

A silence breaks out, one lasting for a few intense seconds before Ian flinches back, and his eyes get that worried look again.

"Alright," Mickey finally says, shaking his head in clear disbelief of what has just happened, "alright, man."

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," murmurs Ian frantically, looking down at his hands.

For some reason, Mandy imagines that he's looking for blood on his hands. 

"Ian, hey, it's fine. You didn't hurt him." Mandy says gently, trying to reach forward for a hand, but he shakes his head and steps away, doesn't let her touch him. "How 'bout you get some sleep, okay? I'm gonna go grab you a blanket and a pillow, I'll be right back."

Mandy's a little paranoid to leave the room, but she doesn't want to be too much. It's a small apartment, it can get crowded. She picks a blanket that doesn't have holes in it and a pillow that doesn't smell like beer, and then returns to the living room, laying them out on the couch. 

"Come on, Mick, leave him be." She says, tugging at her brother's arm until he follows her back into their room. She closes the door, and lets out a deep sigh, still in a bit of denial that this is really happening.

"I want him gone." Mickey says, kicking off his boots, laying down on his side of the bed. "He's fucked up, and you've got a girl on the way."

"He's staying. I saw this one documentary once, on the soldiers that get discharged like this. He needs us, Mick. Just until Fiona's feeling better, alright? We're gonna be here for him, the both of us. "

Eventually she talks Mickey down, and they lay on their opposite sides of the bed, backs pressed together, and Mandy tries not to focus on the sounds of faint crying from their living room as she drifts off into South Side filled dreams.


	3. 3. A Sober Morning

Mickey is just waiting for it now. Mandy's resting with a heavy case of morning sickness, and Gallagher is still asleep; laying so straight and stiff it looks painful, lips parted slightly. If he's being honest, Gallagher looks dead on the couch, the only sign of life being the rise and fall of his chest that you've got to stare at for a while to see. He's just waiting for Gallagher to do that stupid we need to talk, or what are we, or something gay like that.

  
Take it back to South Side, back to Mickey and Ian in the Kash and Grab eating breakfast, back to the stupid fucking question that he just had to ask.

  
"Mandy and I are moving North," he had said, trying to be casual, leaning forward over the cash counter, "wanna come with?"

  
Jesus, Mickey still can't believe he actually asked.

  
"Can't." Ian said simply. "You know I can't."

  
Mickey kissed him then, right on those stupid, pretty lips of his, and then pulled away. Only because he knew how much Ian loved it, of course.

  
"What's that family ever done for you, anyway? Come on, just leave 'em your last pay check and tell 'em you've gotta move on."

  
"I can't just move on from my family, okay? My last pay check won't do shit, they need me there."

  
"We've got a friend we're crashing with, his place is huge, it's--"

  
"What do you care, Mickey?" Ian asked suddenly, looking up from the register with those stupid puppy eyes of his. Except they weren't puppy eyes, not that time. They just looked tired.

  
"Just fucking be at the 'L on Friday if you change your mind." Mickey said, and they didn't speak again after that.

  
He's waiting for the we need to talk, he is so sure that it's coming. He makes coffee - a rare occasion, but he's got a killer headache, and he's trying to get himself somewhat cleaned up now that Mandy's only got three months left. He still can't believe that she's having a baby - he's going to be an uncle. It's a lot of responsibility, he knows it, but he'll do anything to have this kid grow up good. He'll go sober for the rest of his life if he has to, he'll give up pills and pot and even beer if he has to, but his baby niece is going to grow up with her mother and her uncle, and no one is ever - ever - going to lay a hand on her.

  
If Mickey drinks his coffee black, it's bitter, just like the cheap beer that he always gets, and that's some sort of a comfort. Doesn't really do shit for the morning aches, but his head stops buzzing at him and his eyes manage to focus after his second cup.

  
When he reenters the living room, Gallagher is sitting up, again staring into the wall like he's having a fucking revelation.

  
"You ever gonna talk to my sister, man? I mean- really talk to her. Hate to say it, but she missed the hell out of you. We take a trip to South Side every year, she always goes over to the Gallagher house, but I guess now we know why you were never there. I figured maybe you just met somebody, ran off into the sunset like in the shitty movies."

Silence.

  
"Did you meet anybody?" He asks, just out of curiosity.

  
"Just stop." murmurs Gallagher, actually looking up from the wall, over to Mickey. He looks tired again. "You don't want me here. I get it. Just, fuck, just stop."

  
Mickey would be lying if he said he was hurt by it. Because Gallagher's telling the truth - he doesn't want him here. So he stops, he leaves it. Best he didn't get that question answered, anyways, he'd be lying again if he said that he didn't know why he asked Gallagher to move with him all those years ago. There had been something all those years ago - all those times Ian Gallagher would smile at him and he'd get that feeling - like when you knock back whiskey, and your chest feels all warm. But it wasn't a drunk thing, he didn't feel drunk around Ian Gallagher; more like high. Now, though, he feels incredibly sober and it just fucking sucks.

  
"What happened to you, Gallagher?" Mickey says, leaning back, aware he's making a complete ass of himself. "What did you get yourself into over there?"

  
No answer.

  
"They find out you're gay?"

  
Ian nods, stone faced, and it's clear that if he's willing to share, it's not the worst that happened. If a bunch of tough ass Christians finding out he's gay isn't the worst thing happening, it really, really has to be bad.

  
"I'm serious, though. You gotta talk to Mandy. She's had it rough, since that douche bag fucked her over."

  
"You beat the shit out of him, right?" Gallagher asks, reaching up to mess with his tags again.

  
It's enough to make Mickey smile.

  
"Broke his nose, an arm, and two of his ribs with a baseball bat; went full Gallagher on him." Mickey says.

  
Gallagher laughs, looks down at his feet.

  
"The murder bat," he murmurs, as if he's just remembered.

  
Mickey points to what he can see on Gallagher's arm; looks like a tattoo, but he can't tell what from how far apart they're sitting.

  
"What's that?"

  
"Oh- uh...buddy of mine did it for me."

  
He holds the arm out, and Mickey looks over the shitty, barely legible hand writing that reads:

  
_Fiona_

  
_Lip_

  
_Debbie_

  
_Carl_

  
_Liam_

  
_Mandy_

  
Mickey's eyes scan over the list a few times, and he knows what it is. He's not surprised that Mandy is on the list, they did go through a lot as stupid, crazy kids; Terry, the abortion, the various assholes that Mandy dated back then that Ian broke out the Gallagher Murder Bat on.

  
"I didn't want to forget them." whispers Gallagher. "On the bad days."

  
"You thought you were going to forget your family? For real?" Mickey asks in disbelief.

  
The silence returns, Gallagher rubs his fingers over the names on his wrist instead of answering. This is bad. Fuck, Mickey would shoot himself in the head if he ever thought he would forget Mandy, if something was bad enough to make him forget his own baby sister, and he knows that all of the Gallaghers are tight knit, love each other to death.

  
"Good morning," groans Mandy, appearing out of the bathroom to pretty much save Mickey from this awkward conversation. She's got a hand resting on her stomach, and a look of disgust on her face.

  
"Morning," Mickey and Gallagher echo.

  
"Jesus, this kid is going to kill me." Mandy sits between them on the couch, resting her head on Mickey's shoulder.

  
"You shoulda seen Mom when she was pregnant with you, Mands, she would sleep in the bathtub so if she got sick the toilet would be right there."

  
"Holy--"

  
"It's not that hard to believe, I mean, you still make me want to throw up sometimes."

  
"Fuck, Mickey--"

  
"Calm down, I'm just--"

  
"The baby's kicking!" Mandy shouts, lifting her head from his shoulder, smacking his arm.

  
Mandy grabs the wrists of both Mickey and Gallagher, and settles them on her stomach. Gallagher looks uneasy, but then visibly relaxes and his eyes soften. Mickey can feel it - small bumps against his palm, and he has to say it over and over again in his head, not gonna cry, not gonna cry, do not fucking cry. He's got this vision suddenly, this brief moment where he closes his eyes and imagines that he's a little kid again, two-years-old, holding his hand on his mom's belly when she was pregnant with Mandy. And this is crazy, he knows it. There's no way he really remembers that, he was too young. But somehow, even with the knowledge that he's only daydreaming, he finds solace in the moment.

  
"Holy shit," whispers Mickey.

  
He really doesn't want to fuck this up. He's a little scared, if he's being honest, that he's just going to turn out like his dad. He's made Mandy promise that if he ever hits or hurts either of them, she'll kill him. Now, with Gallagher seemingly caught up in the Milkovich mess again, he's gotta worry about what the fuck happened to him, and if he's gonna be a danger to Mandy and the baby.

  
"She already kicks like a Milkovich," Gallagher mumbles, and it makes Mandy laugh.

  
"Alright, now that I've got you two together," Mandy starts, and then yawns before she can go on further.

  
Mickey freezes. Fuck, does she know? He never told her about him and Gallagher, and clearly Gallagher never fessed up either-- or did he? Fuck, Mickey wouldn't put it past that stupid ginger to go spill all his petty little feelings to whoever would listen.

  
"Now that I've got you two together," she repeats, "we can talk about what we're gonna name her."

  
He lets out a quiet breath of relief.

  
"How 'bout Mickey Junior?" He jokes, and when she does her sarcastic fake laugh, he grins. "Nah, gotta be something pretty. How 'bout Ruby?"

  
"Mick, my daughter is not going to be a stripper."

  
"Not all girls named Ruby are strippers."

  
"Yeah, but the Ruby we know is a stripper."

  
"Okay, fair enough." He sighs. "Well, nothing stupid like Faith or Hope or whatever. Marissa?"

  
"Oh- that's nice. Marissa." Mandy hums. "What about you, Ian? Got any ideas?"

  
"Um- I dunno. I'm not a Milkovich, should I really be in on this?" asks Gallagher, his voice faint, like he's scared. Maybe he is scared, it's hard to tell.

  
"You're an honorary Milkovich, dude, you have rights to the last name."

  
What is she talking about? Rights? Mickey raises an eyebrow.

  
"Ian Gallagher-Milkovich," Mandy says (Jesus, she already sounds like a mother), "help us name this damn baby."

  
_Ian Gallagher-Milkovich_. Doesn't sound half bad, but Mickey still doesn't like it. He still doesn't like the idea of this broken as fuck, ready to snap Gallagher around the baby, much less around Mandy. He still doesn't like that Fiona just dumped him like this, just left him to probably never come back. He doesn't like Ian Gallagher having his last name, and what that might imply.

  
"Okay, okay," Gallagher mumbles, rubbing his fingers in small circles over Mandy's stomach. It seems like this is a better day, he seems more at ease than yesterday. "Marla?"

  
"Ooh, I like that. Marla Milkovich, has a ring to it. Mickey, you pick the middle name."

  
Mickey thinks for a while, goes over different names in his head, and after nearly a minute, a smile worms onto his face.

  
"Marla Beth Milkovich," he says finally, and Mandy squeals again.

  
"I love it. I- fuck, I love you guys." Mandy sounds both angry and happy and sad as she speaks, and Mickey knows it's probably just her pregnancy hormones talking (and in an hour she'll be spouting off all the reasons she wants them dead).

But the declaration of love makes Mickey feel warm and just to show that he cares, he rolls his eyes and nudges Mandy with his elbow and murmurs a quick  _God damn, you sound crazy_.

As for the chunk of ice sitting on the other side of her, he is silent for a long while, Mandy probably doesn't even expect him to acknowledge it.

But, "Love you, too," says Gallagher, finally, and it's not in his quiet, skittish voice.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, WOW. So I've been studying over judas_isnt_col's writing for the past week and a half and going over the plot with them. New author here. I'm taking over this fic for a little while (maybe until the end, who knows) because the original author kind of lost their spark with this story and is working on a lot of big projects right now.  
> I'm gonna do my best to be consistent with the writing style and chapter length and everything! If you spot any major holes or problems with the way I write this story, please let me know so I can try and fix them! I don't know how well I'm gonna be at just taking over an entire story, but since there's so many people that like it, I didn't want to just leave it abandoned. Unfortunately, my writing process is kind of slow, so my updates might not be super consistent or fast, but I'm gonna do my best to get this wrapped up in roughly 15 or so chapters (a VERY rough estimation, so don't actually count on that).


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